


Love Potion #7

by rainydaydy



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-09-20 18:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17027583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydaydy/pseuds/rainydaydy
Summary: Youngjae buys a love potion to make his crush, Mark, fall in love with him.Which is great, in theory, except when you're Youngjae and therefore everything that can go wrong, will."You don't want a million suitors do you?"Rated for language and some spicier scenes in later chapters! College AU/ordinary life AU. And now it's completed.





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my second ever fic and first ever GOT7 fic, so just a reminder to please go easy on me. Also it's completely unbeta'd, so all of the mistakes are truly my own, and whoever decides to read this is my guinea pig!
> 
> This started off as a prompt from the prompt generator by colormayfade on tumblr. I can't exactly remember what the prompt was now, but it was something about love potions!

**_Thwack._ **

The heavy metal door crashed against its frame in the wind, as a figure exited out into the night. Choi Youngjae pulled the collar of his jacket closed and braced himself against the wind and the cold sleet that was falling over Seoul. Clutched tightly in his hand was a small, discrete paper bag.

"Three drops daily, until there's no more left," Youngjae muttered to himself, repeating the instructions he had received from the creepiest old lady he had ever laid eyes on. He still remembered her wild hair, and the piercing stare she gave from behind her coke bottle thick lenses as she told him how to use the love potion.

"You'll first have to mix in something of the person you want them to fall in love with, like a strand of hair. Shake the bottle thoroughly, and then slip three drops into their drink daily, until there's no more left. With each dose the feelings they have will get stronger and last longer, once you've drained the last drop you should have sealed the deal," the lady had advised, smiling eerily. "If you're not careful, and they drink the bottle all at once, well... you might get a bit overwhelmed with all the love, so just make sure that doesn't happen. And don't let the wrong person injest any of the potion, you don't want a million suitors, do you?"

Youngjae nodded uncomfortably, paid cash, and then got the heck out of there as fast as he possibly could. Now he made his way down the stairs and into the subway. The light of the station was a harsh, cold white, and far too bright against his eyes compared to the darkness outside but at least it was dry and somewhat warm.

Youngjae felt prickles up his icy fingers as he reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet, touching it to the turnstile and slipping onto the subway platform. In a turn of luck, the announcement overhead said that his train was arriving, and he hoped on without having to wait.

The subway car is emptier than usual, probably because not many people want to be out in one of the nastiest winter storms Seoul has seen in a while, and Youngjae slumps into a seat. He pulls the bottle out of the paper bag, and turns it over in his hand. The bottle was round, made of a thick and heavy glass unlike any bottle Youngjae had ever held before. It had no label. Youngjae tipped the bottle gently, examining the contents closer. The liquid inside was a purplish pink in colour, and completely transparent.

_I wonder if this stuff tastes like anything?_

Youngjae thought of opening the potion up to smell it and at least try and ascertain how hard this task was going to be, but he wasn't sure if the stopper would go back in sealed and he had already spent too much on this stupid attempt to make a boy fall in love with him, he wasn't about to let that leak through his fingers. So he carefully returned the bottle to the bag, and tilted his head back.

 

* * * * *

 

The soothing sounds of the train lulled the young man into a semi-sleep for the nine remaining stops before his station, and when he heard the station name crack over the PA above, he shoved the paper bag into his pocket, rezipped his jacket and alighted onto a deserted platform. Though the wind had calmed down, thick, wet snow was still falling. Youngjae hurried from the station towards his apartment, unlocking the door and quickly shutting it behind him.

Before he could take off his shoes he heard a fit of wild laughter and the sounds of the television coming from the living room, indicating that his roommate Jackson must indeed be home.

"Oh, hyung did you eat yet?" Youngjae called over his shoulder.

No response. Youngjae sighed, Jackson probably couldn't hear him over the noise. Youngjae turned to hang up his coat and noticed a red sports coat hanging in his usual spot. A coat he'd seen before, he thought about it's owner as he ran a hand over the soft material.

"Youngjae, you're back!" Jackson yelled, jumping on top of his roommate. This was their usual routine - Jackson would climb on top of Youngjae and the younger boy would struggle to carry Jackson back inside. But he never tired of it.

"Hyung, I need to put my jacket away and you are killing me...." Youngjae squeaked out. Jackson hopped off and Youngjae began shoving his oversized peat coat into the closet - not fast enough as Jackson grabbed at the brown paper sticking out of the pocket.

"What's this?" Jackson asked playfully holding up the bag.

"N-nothing," Youngjae snatches the bag and quickly makes for his room.

"MAAAAAARK," Jackson's voice rings out across the house.

_Fuck._

Youngjae hears the room go quiet as the television pauses, and a head of dark brown, shaggy hair appears in the hallway.

"Youngjae has something and he's hiding it from me," Jackson says, pouting and pointing to his roommate.

Mark just laughs, and Youngjae can feel a blush rising in his face. "It's nothing, guys. It's just some new... cologne that I bought it's not a big deal."

The two foreign boys exchange glances, and Youngjae takes that second to duck into his room and lock the door behind him. 

"Youngjae-ah, Youngjae-ahhhhhhh," Jackson yells playfully while pounding on the door. He can only imagine the scene playing out outside, with his overdramatic roommate throwing himself against the door, probably faking tears.

"Leave him alone, Jackson," Mark says through bouts of laughter, "He's allowed to have secrets."

This turns Jackson onto Mark, "What secrets? Who's keeping secrets? Are you keeping secrets from me, Mark?"

The voices retreat back towards the living room, and Youngjae finds a place to stash his purchase where it won't be found. Not by Jackson at least.

When Youngjae returns from his room, he finds Mark and Jackson cuddled up on the couch watching some American movie that must be hilarious because Jackson has laughed himself to tears and is wiping his eyes on the corner of Mark's t-shirt.

"There's chicken in the fridge," Mark says when he sees Youngjae appear, "You want me to heat it for you?"

"I'll get it, thanks,"

Youngjae eats the chicken in the kitchen in silence. He mentally starts to debate if buying a love potion was the right thing to do.

_I mean, who does that? Buy a love potion? Isn't that... manipulative. Should I really be poisoning him into loving me?_

On the other hand, the burning feeling taking over his heart every time he sees Mark looking at Jackson, or Yugyeom, or even Jinyoung is enough to make him sick. And recently he's been lashing out at his friends in jealousy. So really, he's not just doing this for himself, he's doing this to feed the little green monster and keep everyone together. He couldn't see it ending well any other way.

Youngjae looks up as a piece of chicken is taken from his plate.

Mark settles into the chair across from him, and tears into the flesh of a BBQ chicken wing.

"Why are you sitting here, eating alone?"

Youngjae shrugs and shifts awkwardly in his seat.

"Tired?"

"A little," Youngjae says, taking another bite.

"Jackson fell asleep on the couch," Mark says, nodding towards the living room.

"Well, that explains the silence," Youngjae chirps, getting a chuckle of approval from the older man.

"Maybe I should head home soon,"

"Hyung, it's awful out. Worst storm in years they said!"

"Hmm... Well if Jackson's asleep on the couch I guess that means I get his bed!"

Youngjae eyes a peeling tile on the floor. He thinks of Mark asleep in his roommates bed, knowing that his roommate will eventually wake up and make his way back there himself. The green monster is growing.

"Youngjae?" Mark is snapping his lean fingers in front of Youngjae's face, "Spacing out?"

"I'm fine," he says, trying to choke down the feeling.

"Why don't you go get ready for bed, I'll wash up," Mark suggests, adding, "Don't worry, I know where everything goes," when Youngjae starts to protest. He shoos the younger one off towards the bedrooms and begins clearing the plates.

 

* * * * *

 

The next morning Youngjae woke early, pulling on a pair of loose old sweatpants over his boxers he makes his way to the kitchen. He had originally planned to find Mark later that day, but the storm had helped him put his plan into motion a lot faster. He pours the water and flips on the coffee maker, the most integral part of his plan. The tile is cold against Youngjae's bare feet as he searches for eggs, peppers, and butter inside the fridge. He heats a pan, and then sets to cutting the peppers and beating the eggs. The omelette mixture sizzles as he pours it into the pan, and he makes a delighted hum as he works, turning the eggs until he's made three perfect omelettes.

As he hears the coffee maker percolate he runs off to his room and shuffles through the boxes on the top shelf of his closet until he reveals a round glass bottle. Hurrying back to the kitchen Youngjae pulls down three cups - confusing the cups won't be a problem in Youngjae's apartment because as typical 20-something bachelors every mug in their house was some sort of freebie from a university fair, or Jackson's yearly fencing conference. Youngjae grabs one from an autobody shop - no clue how they got that - one from Seoul University, and one big, bright yellow one that he knew was Jackson's favourite. He pours the piping hot coffee into the mugs, and then adds 3 drops of the purplish pink liquid into the autobody shop mug.

He's just about to hide the bottle in his closet again when he hears stirring from the other room, and slips it under a pair of socks in his dresser in a panic instead. He'll move it later, just in case Jackson remembers and starts poking around.

"Morning hyungs~" Youngjae says, cutting the two groggy men off at the entrance to the kitchen.

"You seem well rested today," Mark smiles, rubbing sleep from his eyes. His voice is still thick and heavy, and Youngjae wishes he could hear this sound for the rest of his life.

"Awesome, dude look at this spread," Jackson says pushing past them. Youngjae sighs a small sigh of relief when he sees Jackson making himself at home in his usual seat at the table, with his yellow mug.

"I felt kinda hungry this morning so... I made some for everyone," Youngjae explained, taking his usual seat where he'd neatly set the Seoul University mug. With Jackson and Youngjae taking their seats across from each other at the small, square IKEA table, Mark settled into the remaining chair between the two.

The three dug into their omelettes, and Youngjae eating small bites, his eyes flashing worriedly between Mark and his untouched mug of coffee. Mark, none the wiser, hummed contentedly with every forkful of egg.

"This is so good, Youngjae, it reminds me of back home in LA... You know, my mom used to make us omelettes on Sundays, I forgot about that,"

A blush crossed Youngjae's cheeks, but a second later his eyes opened in sheer panic. Sitting in his roommates hands was not his own yellow mug- but Mark's mug of coffee.

"Jackson wait that's-"

Too late. Youngjae watched in horror as Jackson's adam's apple bobbed with each gulp of the liquid. He finished the cup and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand with a satisified sigh.

"What?" Jackson asked when he realized his roommate was staring at him.

"That was... for Mark-hyung..." he choked out.

"It's okay, man. I'll get another one," said Mark, rising to fill the mug.

Youngjae thought back to the creepy old lady, "You don't want a million suitors do you?"

_Youngjae, you are screwed. You are so, so, so screwed._

 

* * * * *

 

Youngjae wasn't sure how long the potion took to take effect. He also had no clue how strong the three drops would be. Jackson still seemed to be his normal self when Mark got up from the table and announced that as the oldest he was entitled to showering first, and that he would be using all of the hot water.

"Good luck, suckers!" Mark laughed as he headed for the bathroom.

"Guess it's our turn to wash dishes," Jackson groaned, collecting the plates and coffee cups and placing them into the sink. "You wash, I'll dry?"

Youngjae was always happy to wash rather than dry, he loved the feeling of warm water on his hands and the frothy bubbles made by the dish soap. These things brought him peace and made him feel calmer, so he jumped to the task, and started handing Jackson freshly washed plates.

"Ack," Youngjae lifted his hand out of the soapy water to find a small red droplet forming on his index finger.

"What happened, let me see," Jackson said, panicked.

"Guess I pricked myself on the knife... It's fine though,"

A pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind, and Jackson held the cut under cold water until the bleeding slowed.

"Let me fix it," Jackson said, sprinting for the band-aids, which they kept in a junk drawer next to the fridge. Youngjae held his finger out in front of him while Jackson gently applied an iron man bandage.

"Thanks, Jackson, it's better now,"

"Not yet," he said, and gave Youngjae's finger a little kiss.

Youngjae laughed before he realized what was going on. The potion.

"Don't get hurt any more, Youngjae, but if you do... I'll always be there to save you," Jackson said planting a surprise kiss on Youngjae's forehead.

"Hey guys who's nex-" Mark's voice rang out from over Youngjae's shoulder, but he stopped himself short when he saw the domestic seen unfolding in front of him.

Youngjae's mouth gaped. He turned to see his oldest hyung, who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, toweling his hair with a small, yellow towel.

_How much did he see?_

"Guess it's me, unless you wanted to come with," Jackson said, giving Youngjae a wink before heading off down the hall.

Finally remembering to close his mouth, Youngjae stared wordlessly at the brown-haired boy.

Mark just smiled, "Guess you're last. I'm gonna get dressed and head out, thanks for breakfast though!"

_Screwed. I am absolutely, positively, screwed._


	2. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays everyone! Hope you enjoy this update.

_It's okay, everyone fails once in a while. You, more than others._

Yesterday's mug mix-up was still fresh in Youngjae's mind as he walked into Starbucks at 7am the next morning. Youngjae hated mornings, but he had set at least seven different alarms last night just to make sure he got out of the house without running into Jackson.

Tuesdays were one of the days that Youngjae and his street performance group, which also happened to be his six best friends, met to practice.

They'd formed the group a few years ago, under Jaebeom's leadership. Youngjae was in his second year of college then, and Jaebeom was one of his upperclassmen in the vocal stream. As it turns out, the older man had a background in bboying, and had been competing and busking for a number of years. Somehow he talked Youngjae into joining their team even though Youngjae was a vocal major and had never so much as attempted to dance in his life. Choir? Absolutely. Musical theatre? He dabbled. But hip-hop dancing in the middle of the street in front of crowds of strangers? Absolutely not.

As much as Youngjae was sure he would regret it, joining 'GET7' was probably the best thing that happened to him. It's how he met all of his friends, Yugyeom and BamBam - who at the time had been two ridiculous kids that always drove him up the wall, Jinyoung who was practically his second mom, his ridiculous but charming roommate Jackson, and of course, Mark.

Youngjae smiled to himself thinking back to their first meeting, first practice, the language barriers, the late night chicken runs, all the times that they were all so tired that they'd laugh at everything and anything. Even though GET7 still remained fairly unknown as a dance crew, they had very quickly became known in all of there respective social circles for being the rowdy boys with the weird inside jokes. One of Youngjae's classmates had said he swore they were speaking in their own language, their inside jokes were so incomprehensible.

They were older now, yet they still managed to keep up practicing even with everyone's diverse schedules. It also helped that only one member, Jaebeom's boyfriend Jinyoung, managed to have what could be called a "real job" at an architectural firm with a foreign owner. They had a flexible work schedule, so Tuesday practices still held up as long as Jinyoung could make it back to work by noon, and Youngjae still had to drag his butt out of bed.

"I'll get coffee today. Had to run some errands," Youngjae typed into the group chat.

Coffee orders bubbled into the chat from everyone except Jaebeom, who was probably still sleeping or had muted the chat in annoyance at some point. Scrolling back over last night's 'dank memes vs wholesome memes' argument, Youngjae didn't blame him. If he'd wanted anything, Jinyoung would've ordered for the both of them anyway.

When it was finally his turn, Youngjae ordered five black coffees and an iced choco. He asked the Barista to write Mark on one of the cups. She obliged, scrawling the English letters in pretty handwriting, and adding a heart. Youngjae blushed even at this - at least there was no way to mistake who the coffee was for now.

 

 * * * * *

 

The studio was only two blocks away, in a nondescript, white brick mid-rise building. There was a sign in the fourth floor window that said "DANCE STUDIO" with a phone number, but that was about it. Youngjae carefully made his way up the concrete staircase, taking care not to spill any of his precious drinks. He gave a nod to the 20-something guy manning the reception desk and headed for the same practice room they used every week. The door was a jar, but when Youngjae nudged it open with his foot he was pleasantly surprised to see it was empty.

Placing the coffees on a small fold out table in the corner of the room, Youngjae quickly set to his task. The bottle of pink liquid had been burning a hole in his pocket the entire walk, and he couldn't seem to open it up fast enough. Taking the cup with Mark's name on it, he poured in three drops. No more. No less. Then he replaced the lid, and put it back into the tray as if nothing had ever happened.

Just as he was about done putting the stopper back into the bottle he heard loud laughter coming from the hallway. He quickly shoved the potion into his coat.

A second later, pure chaos, otherwise known as the two youngest members of their friend group, spilled into the room.

"Hyung, thank you," Yugyeom beamed, bee-lining for his chocolate drink. Youngjae just smiled and waved it off. BamBam took his coffee as well, and started rummaging in his bag for his practice clothes.

"I don't know why you don't just wear them here," Youngjae chided, looking down at his own faded t-shirt and track pants.

"And let people see me? Like that? Ewwww," Bambam said making a face at Youngjae's outfit.

"Ewww," Yugyeom mimicked. "Nobody's looking anyways Bam!"

The taller boy ducked as a patent leather shoe went flying at his head.

_**BOOM.** _

Youngjae looked up to see Jaebeom standing in the doorway looking furious, with a rather pitiful Jinyoung trailing behind.

"Good morning?" Yugyeom said, testing the waters.

Jaebeom grunted in reply, throwing his gym bag in the corner. Jinyoung sighed and walked over to where BamBam was still changing on the floor to start stretching.

"How are you NOT dressed YET?"

"Sorry, hyung I-"

"And where the HELL are Mark and Jackson? It's already past eight,"

Youngjae glanced up at the large digital clock above the practice room mirror. It was indeed 8:01 am.

"Jaebeom, honestly. They're like a minute late," Jinyoung snapped. Turning his back to the leader, he caught sight of the coffee tray.

"Thanks Youngjae," Jinyoung whispered apologetically, grabbing an unmarked cup and taking a sip.

"Where's my coff-" Jaebeom asked.

"You didn't say you wanted any," Jinyoung cut him off.

"Well you know what, NOW I DO," Jaebum said, "And since Mark's late, it looks like he got enough sleep and doesn't need his."

Youngjae felt the blood draining from his face.

"Hyung, that- that's not..."

"Not what?"

"I mean, you can have mine instead..."

But it was too late. Jaebeom was already defiantly chugging the cup with Mark's name on it. He finished it in record time, and crushed the cup as he tossed it in trash.

_Cursed. Youngjae you are absolutely, positively cursed._

In the middle of Youngjae's mental debate on whether to pack up and sell all his worldly possessions, and move to the provinces to become a tea farmer, Jackson and Mark finally appeared, arm in arm. Youngjae swallowed down the bitter taste that had suddenly appeared in his mouth.

"Well, now that we're all finally here," Jaebeom said sarcastically, shooting a death glare at the two stragglers, "Let's get started."

 

* * * * *

 

Youngjae found it hard to concentrate on his lines or the moves. He kept catching glancing of Jackson in the mirror and knew that the older boy was watching him, smiling warmly whenever their eyes met.

Finally, Jaebeom signalled a break. Youngjae responded to this happy news by throwing himself onto the floor in the middle of the room, body sprawled at odd angles as he tried to catch his breath. Even though it was freezing outside, and not that much warmer in the practice room, the choreo they were working on was one of the toughest yet. Youngjae was sweating buckets.

"You're doing well," Jaebeom said in a non-chalant manner, taking a seat next to Youngjae's sprawled body on the floor.

Youngjae shot up, "T-thanks hyung."

"A little bit tired though?" a smug look crossed the leader's face, that was betrayed only by the reddening of his ears. Youngjae realized the potion had taken yet another victim.

Youngjae wanted to protest the insinuation, but was stopped short by the older boy, gently taking the towel from around his neck to dab away sweat from the corner of Youngjae's forehead. The younger boy found himself caught in that charismatic gaze that Jaebeom was famous for, the warmth that made you feel safe, but also caused your heart to skip a beat. He understood now why amongst all the GET7 members, Jaebeom had quite the number of fans, between his mess of dark black hair, the leather jacket he always wore, and that- that look. He was a classic heart-throb.

Youngjae blushed, realizing where his mind was running off to, but was distracted by some motion just over Jaebeom's shoulder. In the practice room mirror he saw Mark behind him, looking through the half-drank coffee cups on the table.

"Oh-" Youngjae started, reaching out absentmindedly towards the mirror Mark.

"Hey Youngjae, which ones mine?" Mark called.

"W-well,"

"Jaebeom drank it," Jinyoung said flatly, looking up from his phone.

Mark rolled his eyes, but thankfully Jaebeom had yet to take his eyes off of Youngjae, saving Mark the lecture.

Youngjae turned his gaze to the floor as a pair of sneakers shuffled over to him. He felt the older boy ruffling his hair, "It's okay. I'll get something from the vending machine."

 

* * * * *

 

If Youngjae thought that Jaebeom's new infatuation with him was going to put him in a better mood, he was wrong. When practice resumed, the leader seemed to be going 50% harder on everyone else - constantly calling out the smallest details and making them into huge mistakes. To make it worse, whenever Youngjae messed up, Jaebeom would pin it on someone else.

"Hyung it's not fair, he crashed into me," Yugyeom yelled in frustration.

"If you weren't in the wrong place, he wouldn't have,"

"I-I was the one in the wrong place," Youngjae mumbled.

"This is my mark," Yugyeom countered, kicking an X of tape on the floor.

Jaebeom was about to unleash the full beast on the youngest member when Jinyoung interrupted.

"Don't take it out on him when you're just pissed at me for throwing your 'lucky t-shirt' in the wash or whatever,"

"I've had that thing since I won my first bboying competition in middle school, but you had to go and wash all the luck away,"

"It's a shirt,"

"Just because we live together doesn't mean you can just touch my shit,"

Youngjae covered his ears. In the mirror he could see Bambam shifting awkwardly on his feet. He made eye contact briefly with Yugyeom's reflection next to Bam's, but the younger boy just rolled his eyes, still smoldering from the earlier reprisal, obviously holding a bit of a grudge against Youngjae.

"Let's sit down and talk about this, I'm sure we can come to a solution," Jackson suggested, always the peacemaker.

"Shut up," the bickering couple said in unison.

The Hong Kong native retreated like a puppy who's tail was just stepped on, and proceeded to hide behind Youngjae's back. When he reached an arm up to wrap around Youngjae's shoulder, the younger boy felt guilty for shrugging him off. He told himself it was because he didn't want Jackson to 'get the wrong idea', but he knew deep down it was someone else who he didn't want to get any ideas,

"Maybe we should just call it a day. We can all practice our individual parts on our own and come back Friday for a proper run through. Right now it's just too rough around the edges," Mark offered.

"Fine," Jaebeom barked with a wave of his hand. "But it better be absolutely fucking perfect when we pick it back up, you hear me? I just want this showcase to go well for us..."

Jinyoung placed an understanding hand on Jaebeom's shoulder, and Youngjae watched him relax into it. He couldn't help but thinking that there was more than met the eye in the way their leader had trailed off there. He wanted this showcase to go well? Well, of course, they all wanted every showcase to go well, but something about the way Jaebeom said it, tinged with a strange sadness, left Youngjae feeling like they'd been left out of some sort of bigger context.

"Friday, guys, we'll get back to it then?" Jinyoung's voice shook Youngjae from his thoughts.

The question was met with several exhausted but otherwise grateful affirmatives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It's actually been the hardest for me to write. I'm still not exactly happy with it but I didn't want to hold up the rest of the fic forever!


	3. Wednesday

Wednesdays Youngjae worked his part-time job at the tennis court in the evenings, but his mornings were otherwise free.

Mark on the other hand, was doing freelance localization work, he set his own hours and mostly never left his apartment or interacted with anyone, aside from the few skype meetings he had to do with his company when big projects came in. At the moment he was working on translating the maintenance manuals Samsung's new air conditioning system into English.

 **Youngjae:** hyung!! hows work?

 **Mark:** this is the MOST boring shit ive ever had to do...

 **Youngjae:** you must be tired TT TT did you eat yet?

 **Mark:** ummmm...

 **Youngjae:** it's past noon! i'm bringing you food

Youngjae hit send and rushed to get dressed without even waiting for a reply.

"Where are you going?" Jackson called from his room.

"Out!" Youngjae replied, tugging on his jacket and sliding into his shoes. He heard Jackson's voice trailing after him, but whatever he was saying was muffled by the slamming of the apartment door.

Youngjae jogged towards the train station, the light crusting of fresh snow that fell the night before crunched under his trainers. Swiping his train card he passed through the turnstile just in time to see his train approaching. Normally he'd enjoy the one advantage of living in a cheap apartment so far outside Seoul had, which was the abundance of seats this far along the train line. But Youngjae knew he wouldn't be able to sit still. He was going to see Mark, uninterrupted, and he was finally going to set his plan in motion. The thought of being alone with Mark in his apartment made Youngjae's heart do back-flips, and he had to take a few deep breathes to calm down.

Youngjae's plan was perfect. He knew that as much as Mark loved Korean food, he also loved American take-out food when he was stressed. So, as soon as he exited the station near Mark's apartment, he headed to the nearest McDonald's and ordered a Big Mac, with a soda and fries, and some chicken nuggets for good measure. Picking up his order from the cashier, he quickly stopped at a table near the door and added the three drops of potion that would this time, definitely make it to Mark's lips. He secured the lid, and headed out.

A few minutes later he stepped out of the elevator in a rather average looking apartment building. Youngjae knew Mark's parents were pretty well off back in America, and Mark never complained about needing money, but he never asked for it either. He lived a pretty low key life, and didn't collect clothing or other fancy things like BamBam and Jackson did. In the few times that Youngjae had previously visited Mark's apartment, he remembered it being very minimalist. It was neat, but not in a way that said he cared about the decor. If he could pick a word to best describe it, "basic" or "functional" came to mind.

Youngjae pressed the button on the door to unit number 626, "It's me" he said and was instantly let in.

"Hyung I-"

"Youngjae~" a high pitched voice greeted him instead.

Youngjae's face dropped instantly.

"Hi BamBam, how great to see you here," he deadpanned. The little green monster inside him wanted to strangle the younger boy at this moment, but he resisted the urge.

"I came to bother Mark hyung since my class was cancelled," BamBam said, blissfully unaware of Youngjae's ill will.

"Yeah he's been a real pain in my ass," Mark laughed from somewhere further in the apartment.

Youngjae brushed past the younger boy, and went to set down the food in the small kitchenette that made up one side of Mark's bachelor apartment. Having visited a couple times before, he was familiar with the layout, and helped himself to the cupboards, pulling out a plate and carefully arranging the fast food on top.

"Sorry, I didn't bring enough food for everyone," Youngjae said placing the plate and the soda onto Mark's desk. "Hyung you should take a break for a bit, you've been working on this since last night haven't you? I bet you didn't even sleep yet."

The older boy just shrugged, but the grumbling of his stomach gave him away, and he started shovelling the burger into his mouth with reckless abandon.

"You guys can have some too, you know," Mark said guiltily between mouthfuls. 

"We're fine," Youngjae began to protest, but BamBam had already made a reach for the soda, tipping the straw into his mouth.

"Thanks hyung!" the Thai boy chimed, taking the biggest gulp.

_God. Why have you forsaken me? Just tell me why._

"Youngjae, are you okay? You're spacing out again..." Mark asked.

Realizing he must have been staring and quite possibly with his mouth open, Youngjae quickly collected himself and waved off the older boys concern, "Oh I'm fine. I was just thinking about things!"

_Things like, how the world is cruel and how I am doomed and how... oh my god now BamBam's going to be in love with me???_

* * * * *

Youngjae spent the next hour sitting on Mark's couch next to BamBam while the younger babbled to Mark about this thing and the other thing. He hated to admit it, but he was sulking, and seeing how Mark enthusiastically reacted to all of BamBam's absolutely useless stories made him even sulkier. It didn't help when BamBam would forget a word or two in Korean and then launch into a full English explanation of his story, finishing it with "You know what I'm saying?"

_I have absolutely no clue what you're saying, you dumb child._

It's what Youngjae wanted to say, but instead he said (a little scathingly), "Don't you have an afternoon class to get to?"

BamBam stopped talking for the first time in an hour and looked at Youngjae like it's the first time he'd seen him in his life. "Wow, hyung, you memorized my schedule?"

"Y-yeah I mean I think we... all know your schedule Bam, we talk to you every day and... ARE YOU CRYING?!" Youngjae looked from BamBam to Mark and back again looking for an explanation, but Mark looked just as confused as he was.

BamBam launched his face into Youngjae's chest, sobbing heavily.

"Bammie, what's wrong?"

"It's just... Nobody's ever cared about me this much," the younger boy replied between hiccuped sobs.

Youngjae sighed. He knew that this was just the effects of the potion, but he couldn't stand to see his friends cry, and he had never really taken BamBam for the serious, emotional type. Honestly, out of all of them Mark was probably the biggest crybaby, followed by Jackson when Jackson got into one of his deep emotional talk moods, and told everyone how important they were to him and how much he loved them.

"H-hey you're okay," Youngjae said patting the younger boy's back awkwardly.

Mark handed Youngjae a tissue box, and took a seat on the other side of the couch.

"Bams..." Mark cooed, touching BamBam's elbow, but that only made the youngest pull away and bury his face deeper into Youngjae's Supreme hoodie.

Youngjae pulled out a few tissues, and lifted the boys face. He started blotting the big alligator tears away, and held the tissue up for BamBam to blow his nose. After a few minutes the tears stopped, and Youngjae went to the kitchen to throw out the tissues, Mark followed.

"I think... maybe I'll just take him home, so you can get back to work. Maybe he's sick or something?" Youngjae said.

"Right... he seemed fine just a few minutes ago," Mark said, lowering his voice to barely a whisper, "I think... I think he's having some problems at school. His class has been cancelled like five times now. I hate to dump this on you, but can you figure out what's going on?"

"Of course,"

"Thanks Youngjae, you're a really great friend," Mark said, putting his hand on Youngjae's shoulder.

_Great friend... Good job Youngjae, you're a 'great friend'._

Youngjae faked a small smile, and headed back to the small form curled up on the couch, "Come on Bammie, Mark has to do work now. I'll take you home, okay?"

* * * * *

After shuffling BamBam into his ridiculous patent leather shoes which may or may not have been Gucci, Youngjae managed to get the two of them into the elevator and downstairs. BamBam's apartment was close to Mark's, and so was his school. Youngjae linked arms with his friend, but soon felt a cold hand make it's way into his jacket pocket. He sighed, but couldn't bare to see BamBam cry again, so he gave the slender fingers a soft pump as they walked in silence.

They rounded the corner to BamBam's apartment block, and made their way up the stairs. It was a slightly older building than Mark's but once inside the apartment, Youngjae was overwhelmed by how different the two styles were. The younger boy's apartment was something out of an interior design magazine, or like an episode of that old show Jackson and Mark used to watch, MTV Cribs. A giant flat-screen TV lined the wall, opposite a black leather couch, with a glass coffee table between the two. To the right of the living room was the kitchen, and to the left he could see the bedroom, which was really just the same room separated with black leather dividers. Since most of the entertaining in their group was done at Jaebeom and Jinyoung's much larger flat, reasons to visit BamBam had been rare.

BamBam finally let go of Youngjae's hand so the two could take off their shoes and jackets, but took hold of it again as soon as that was done.

He led them over towards his bed, which sat pushed up in one corner of the room, and Youngjae began to panic before BamBam pulled up cross legged on the bed and motioned him to sit.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"I'm so tired, Youngjae, I'm exhausted. And I think... I think I might drop out,"

"Why?"

"I just... I can't do it. It's so hard, and my teachers hate me, my classmates barely talk to me because I'm just some weird foreign kid, and I'm always getting the big words wrong, and-" Youngjae noticed his friend quickly spiralling, his breathing becoming fast and shallow.

"Shhh," Youngjae said, reaching out and stroking BamBam's arms. "You're okay, let's just start from the beginning. Mark says you've been showing up at his apartment and awful lot. Skipping class?"

"It's fashion, I thought we'd be designing clothes, not writing essays on what old dead guys wore. I always thought my Korean was fairly good, you know. But my teacher said my essays were 'written by a child'. I guess I didn't think it was going to be this hard,"

"So... why didn't you just ask us for help?"

Bambam let out a sigh, and Youngjae waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts.

"I'm not your baby anymore...," BamBam admitted finally, "I'm not that chubby kid sitting on Jackson's lap, you guys can't just do everything for me. You're all so busy and stressed, I didn't want to add to that,"

Youngjae nodded. He looked over his friends face, and realized he was right. He wasn't that chubby kid that they used to spoon feed out of pure paternal instinct. Time between them, between all of his friends, had never stopped flowing, whether they liked it or not. Maybe he had been so absorbed in his own world, he had stopped paying attention to everyone else.

"Baby or not, you have to go to class. You've tried too hard to get here to give up now, and I'm not going to let you fail. So next time just _ask_ me. Okay?"

BamBam nodded halfheartedly, and Youngjae ruffled his hair.

"I know it's the middle of the day but, can we... Can we just sleep?" the exhaustion in the younger boy's voice was palpable, and Youngjae figured crying really must have taken a lot out of him.

"I'll stay with you til I have to work, okay?" Youngjae supplied, earning a weak nod in response.

He crawled to the top of the bed, and laid down, and BamBam quickly moved to lay his head on Youngjae's chest. Youngjae stroked his dyed blonde hair, taking in the luxurious smell of BamBam's shampoo, feeling the rise and fall of BamBam's chest against his own, letting his own body relax into the mattress below.

"Hyung," BamBam whispered sleepily, "I love you."

Youngjae simply hummed in reply as he watched the blonde strands slip through his fingertips like little rays of sunlight.

_You don't, but I appreciate it all the same._

* * * * *

When Youngjae awoke, the room was dark. It took him a moment to remember where he was, but the streetlight glistening off the high cheekbones of the sleeping face next to him brought it all back.

"Oh, shit," Youngjae whispered, reaching over BamBam to his phone on the bedside table. 6:30pm. He'd make it just in time for his shift if he left now, and ran the entire way.

He unceremoniously clamoured over the younger boy in an attempt to make it to the door, but something tugged the hem of his shirt and pulled him back.

"You're leaving?"

"I've gotta go to work," he started, "Don't give me those sad eyes, I told you everything's going to be okay. I'm just a text away."

Youngjae flashed his patented otter smile, a real one this time, and the younger boy seemed to relax. He turned and hurried to pull on his winter clothes, exchanging a quick "see you later" as he ran out the door.

Thick, heavy snowflakes were falling, covering the ground in slush. Youngjae dodged the large puddles as he made his way towards the tennis center near the university. 7:01pm, he was a minute late, but thankfully the manager wasn't around. He waved at his coworker as he stepped into the office, and prepared for another boring night of checking people in, fetching spare balls and towels, and occasionally unclogging toilets in the men's changeroom.

"I'm off then," his coworker said, "By the way, did you get some new cologne or something? It smells nice."

"Thanks," he said, embarrassed, as he watched her disappear. He lifted his t-shirt to his nose, and took a sniff. He smelt unmistakably like BamBam. The moment he got home he was jumping right in the shower, Jackson had a nose like a bloodhound and there was no way he was letting this information get out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments are very much appreciated! This was... a little more emotional?


	4. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with the next chapter! Sorry it took me a while. Warning this time it might get spicy!

Youngjae was _not_ going to screw it up this time.

It was Thursday, and Youngjae knew the rest of the GET7 crew would be gathering, like they did every week, at their regular watering hole - a college bar with cheap drinks and not-so-great-but-not-so-awful food, where they could relax.

A chime jingled as Youngjae opened the door and stepped into the low light, it didn't take him long to see BamBam enthusiastically waving him down, patting an empty seat between him and... Mark? He could barely keep from tripping over himself as he made his way to the table. Whatever BamBam's potion-induced infatuation threw at him today, Youngjae would endure it for the chance to finally hit his real target.

So Youngjae ignored BamBam's hand sitting softly on his thigh, and became deeply engrossed in the conversation Mark was having with Jaebeom, who was occassionally stealing glances at Youngjae and blushing. He also ignored Jackson, who sat on the other side of the table, and kept trying to play footsies with him, even if he couldn't help but laugh when he heard a very distinct "owwww" from next to him, indicating Jackson's foot had probably made direct contact with BamBam's shin.

"Anyways, I'm gonna get another one," Mark said, wrapping up his line of thought.

"I'll get it!" Youngjae interjected, stopping Mark before he could even move off the stool.

"You sure? I mean the bar's just over there..."

"I got here last so, I haven't gotten anything for myself yet... I'll grab whatever you guys want and come back,"

A whisky for Mark, another beer for Jinyoung, and a rum and coke for BamBam. Youngjae rehearsed the order as he approached the bar. Add in another beer for himself, some sort of cream ale that was on tap, he wasn't really paying attention but the bar tender recommended it and said it tasted like chocolate so why not.

When the drinks arrived he paid, and then waited for the bar tender to turn her back. He checked to make sure the students sitting on either side of the bar weren't looking - they weren't, and being honest Youngjae didn't often attract a lot of attention so he wasn't sure what he was worried about. He slipped the little glass bottle out of his sweater pocket and counted as three drops fell into the golden whisky.

"Need help?"

Youngjae jumped, nearly dropping the glass bottle on the floor. He turned abruptly to see Jackson smiling at him.

"Suuuuure you can take these to the table," Youngjae said, pointing at the glasses for BamBam and Jinyoung with one hand. He clasped the other hand tightly behind his back, praying that Jackson would just take the cups and go.

"Annnnnnd if I do, what will I get in return?" Jackson teased.

Youngjae wasn't sure Jackson in love with him was any different than Jackson on any other day - always in need of attention.

"If you do... I'll..." Youngjae paused, he wasn't good at flirting, "I-I'll let you watch whatever you want on Netflix tonight?"

"It's a date, baby boy~" Jackson called happily over his shoulder as he headed off towards the table.

Youngjae sighed. Having people in love with you was truly awful.

Turning back to the bar, Youngjae quickly stoppered the potion and pocketed it again. Then he picked up his tall beer glass and Mark's tiny whisky glass and made his way back through the throng of freshman towards his seat.

"Here you go," he said, and Mark beamed back in thanks.

"Hyuuuuuung," Yugyeom whined on the other side of the table. With BamBam at Youngjae's side, he had barely heared a peep out of Yugyeom.

"Yes, Yugyeom?" Mark responded like a parent.

"Hyung, why do you always drink whisky, is it really that good?"

"He drinks it because he's got rich taste, unlike the rest of us," Jaebeom laughed.

"You mean because he has money, unlike the rest of us," Jinyoung corrected.

"Hey, can't blame me for having taste. But actually it's pretty good, you wanna try some?"

_No. No. No. Absolutely not. Mark do not-_

Too late. Youngjae had always appreciated Mark as a caring person, who was used to sharing since he came from a big family, these thoughts used to make Youngjae feel warm and fuzzy, but now Mark's kindness was only getting in the way.

Yugyeom took a sip of the whisky, "Oh hyung, it's sweet!"

"You like it? You can have it, something tells me Youngjae's going to need some help finishing whatever beer this is that he's ordered anyways," Mark laughed, leaning into the younger boy with his shoulder, "You look like you're about to die."

Youngjae was indeed about to die, but it wasn't because the chocolate-flavoured beer actually tasted like what Youngjae imagined the water at the bottom of an ashtray tasted like, or well- it was partly because of that but it was mostly because of the absolute horror of what just happened.

_Doomed. Doomed. I'm doomed. So fucking doomed._

"Youngjae?" Mark asked when the younger still hand't replied.

"You're right this tastes like ass," Youngjae spat out.

The entire table burst into laughter, and Youngjae felt his ears tinging pink. Jinyoung passed him a glass of water to rinse out the taste. Youngjae wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Jaebeom whisper the word 'cute' under his breath.

 

* * * * *

 

After Mark helped Youngjae down the disgusting cream ale, and Youngjae's posse of infatuated men, Jackson, Jaebeom, and Bambam, all took turns buying Youngjae subsequent drinks Youngjae was pretty loaded. He excused himself from Jackson telling a rather loud and enthusiastic rendition of how he won his latest fencing award and how all of the fans (both male and female) had been deeply in awe of his prowess, and headed towards the washroom at the back of the dark bar.

Entering the relative quiet of the bathroom, Youngjae headed towards the urinals lined against the far wall. His head was spinning a little, and his face felt warm from the alcohol. Finishing up his business he turned and headed for the sink. He let the warm water run over his hands and washed away the suds with contentment.

"Heh,"

The sound made him jump. His eyes followed the pair of long legs up across broad shoulders and settled on Yugyeom's smirking face, leaning against the opposite wall just next to the hand dryers.

"Y-yugyeom when did you... get there?"

The younger boy just shrugged.

"Hyung, why are you so cute these days? How am I supposed to resist you," he said, walking over to where Youngjae was still standing in front of the sink and slinging his arm around the smaller boy.

"You see... there's a reason for that... a good... reason,"

Yugyeom's hand went to Youngjae's throat, applying pressure. At the same time, the younger boy had closed the gap between their bodies, pressing Youngjae against the sink.

"There's a lot of good reasons, and a couple of bad ones too," the Yugyeom in the mirror said, and Youngjae could see the panic in his own reflection. If Youngjae was an otter, then Yugyeom was a coyote, and he had just caught his prey.

Without removing pressure from his neck, Yugyeom ran his thumb over Youngjae's plump bottom lip, sending an involuntary shiver down Youngjae's spine. The mirror Yugyeom smirked, and Youngjae felt hot breath against his ear as the younger boy began to trail kisses down Youngjae's neck.

"Gyeom... please... someone's going to walk in on us..."

"Let them," Yugyeom said nonchalantly, leaving Youngjae to wonder just how many times he had been in this situation before. But the thought was pushed away by the feeling of teeth nipping at his collarbone, and the buttons of his dress shirt coming undone, Yugyeom not failing to make eye contact with Youngjae's reflection every time he popped one open.

Youngjae gasped as a pair of teeth clasped over his nipple.

Just then the bathroom door swung open, and the two froze. Mark stood, in shock, in the doorway.

Yugyeom released his teeth from Youngjae's nipple with a little drag that, Youngjae thought was not quite intentional, but had the unfortunate consequence of rising a little yelp from his throat that he tried- and failed - to stiffle as his hips bucked slightly against Yugyeom's grasp.

"What the FUCK are you two doing?"

"Mark, I can expla-"

"Get out, NOW! And for fuck's sake Youngjae put your clothes on,"

"Yes, hyung~" Yugyeom said, dragging Youngjae out of the bathroom.

 

 

* * * * *

 

Music roared back into Youngjae's ears as the pair entered the harshly lit hallway. Youngjae just stood there, mouth agape as Yugyeom helped him fasten his buttons. The younger boy straightened out his shirt with a caring attention to detail that seemed to be the complete opposite of the aggression Youngjae had just experienced.

"We'll finish this later," Yugyeom said, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of Youngjae's head. He watched as Yugyeom's lanky figure disappeared back into the crowded bar.

When Youngjae returned to the table, he didn't give anyone time to ask where he'd been. Instead, he grabbed his jacket, mumbled something about not feeling well, and made for the door before he ran into Mark again or before any of his admirers could try to find some reason they should take him home. He'd have to deal with Jackson later that night, but he'd just hole up in his room and ignore him if he had to.

 

* * * * *

 

The next morning Youngjae woke up with a major headache. A mix of cheap alcohol and crying yourself to sleep could do that, he guessed. Dragging his weary body to the kitchen, he squinted against the bright light of the fridge and pulled out some orange juice. The clock on the stove said it was just passed noon, but Youngjae noticed there were no dishes in the sink or the dish drainer.

"Did Jackson even come home?" Youngjae muttered to himself, plodding off towards the other boys room. He gave a knock while opening the door, a habit of his that Jackson hated, but found the bed empty.

Youngjae retreated back to his bedroom and checked his phone. The notifications were enough to make his head spin. Five missed calls, two from BamBam, two from Yugyeom, one from Jaebeom. Youngjae wasn't even ready to check his voice messages, so he skipped on to the texts. Amongst the threads from

**Jackson:** wont be comin home 2nite :(  
**Jackson:** had 2 take mark back 2 his place man is he plastered  
**Jackson:** hope ur feelin better <3  
**Jackson:** u must be sleep already. gud nite sweetie <33

Youngjae took a deep breath. Although it was against his better judgement, he decided to call Jackson and see where he was, and to find out more about what happened after he left last night.

The call took a couple of rings to connect, but finally Youngjae heard Jackson's sleep filled voice, "Hello?"

"Hyung, you didn't come home last night... is everything okay?"

"Oh yeah, it's fine. How're you feeling Youngjae?"

"I'm fine. I guess that nasty beer really did me in is all... Where are you now?" Youngjae asked, although he knew full well what the answer would be.

"I'm at Mark's place, god he was a disaster... I guess it was just after you left, he came back from the washroom looking pissed as hell, ordered a bunch of shots, I think he broke at least one glass, then he was like, 'Let's go to the club' so we left, but we didn't even make it to the club before he threatened to beat the shit out of Yugyeom in the middle of the street!"

"Is he okay?" Youngjae interjected, a little too desperately.

"Yugyeom? Oh yeah he's fine, Jaebeom and I had to haul his ass out from the snowbank Mark shoved him in, but other than that he's perfectly okay."

_Right, Yugyeom. That's who you should be concerned about right now..._

Both sides of the line were silent for a while. Not an awkward silence, but a silence that indicated that each boy was momentarily lost in their own thoughts.

"Youngjae, you okay?" Jackson said finally, his voice too soft, too tender for Youngjae to bear.

"Y-yeah..." he quickly deflected, "Anyway, good thing you were there. Where's Mark now?"

"Sleeping, he's so cute, his little drooly face, not as cute as you though! Anyway, if you need me to come home, I can?"

Youngjae tried to push aside the mental image of Jackson and Mark, together in Mark's bed. He tried to ignore the dull ache in his chest, and the fire in the pit of his stomach. He had asked the question, he had already known the answer, but he'd asked it anyway, feeding the little green monster. Fueling his pain.

"I'm fine," Youngjae replied, catching himself in a spiralling thought, "I was just about to go out. I'll see you guys tonight at practice!"

He ended the call before even saying goodbye, sinking down onto the floor next to his bed he began banging his head against the wall.

_You're an idiot, Choi Youngjae, you're an absolute idiot. And now your friends are trying to murder each other over you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you guys!
> 
> Anyway if you're still reading this then I really appreciate you! I know the chapters are short, there's just a few more left so I hope you can enjoy it til the end.


	5. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the delay. Next chapter is here. This one is dialogue heavy, but I hope you still enjoy it.

Youngjae sat on the floor of his bedroom, rolling the cold, smooth glass of the bottle in between his hands. He tilted it back and forth, watching the remaining few drops of liquid change purple and pink as it caught the light.  
  
"What's the point? What's the fucking point," he yelled to the empty room. He had half a mind to throw the bottle, smash it against the wall, for all the good it's caused him.  
  
But Youngjae wasn't the type to be quite so brazen, he knew it wouldn't do him any good. There was probably just enough potion left for three more drops.  
  
_Last chance, if he doesn't drink this potion now he'll end up hating you forever anyway. Not really much to lose._  
  
Youngjae stomped his way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of organic green tea that Jackson always kept stockpiled in the fridge. The old man who owns the dance studio had once told Jackson that organic green tea was the key to eternal beauty and longevity, and Jackson that very day had run off to buy a couple dozen bottles, lecturing Youngjae about how they 'weren't going to be young forever', shoving a bottle of the bitter liquid into his mouth. Youngjae gagged, spilling green tea all over Jackson's pants. To this day he still didn't see the appeal.  
  
Regardless of his feelings, he wouldn't be the one drinking the tea, so he quickly carried the bottle to his room. He cracked off the cap, and then reached for the potion. He watched carefully as the last three drops of liquid poured out, and gave the bottom of the glass bottle a little tap for good measure. Tossing the empty bottle aside haphazardly, he secured the lid back onto the green tea. Then, like a bolt of lightning, he ran back to the kitchen and started to rummage frantically through the junk drawer. He pulled out a black permanent marker and a roll of green painter's tape from when they'd first moved in to the apartment and Jackson had tried his hand at 'interior decorating'. Youngjae chucked at the memory, pushing the too-full drawer back into place and heading back to his room.  
  
He wrapped the bottle in green tape, vertically, securing the lid in place as well. Then he wrapped a few more pieces of tape horizontally to secure the first one in place. The bottle started to look something like a little Christmas tree. Youngjae popped the cap off the sharpie and wrote MARK all across the tape.  
  
_You'd have to be a real stubborn idiot to go through the trouble of ripping the tape off and drinking a bottle that wasn't even yours._  
  
This last-ditch effort, contained in a simple bottle of green tea, Youngjae shoved into his gym bag.

 

* * * * *

 

The dance studio rented slots for half price on Friday nights (because who wanted to give up their weekend?) and therefore Jaebeom had booked double GET7 practice for every Friday night from now until infinity. Not only was he their leader, he was also relentlessly frugal and 'did not give a shit about anyone's social life'. This brought complaints from BamBam or Yugyeom, who'd rather be out clubbing, or occasionally Jackson who needed the time to see one of his thousand friends that were always flitting in and out of the country. But for Youngjae it meant an excuse not to be spending the evening prepping towels and to actually hang out with his friends. Normally, it was the day of the week he looked forward to most, but after last night he could only be filled with dread.  
  
Youngjae arrived last, spending as much time as possible pacing the block until he was sure he wouldn't have any time to spend alone, speaking to or interacting with anyone. He didn't need to worry, the atmosphere in the practice room was as dark and despondent as he himself felt. Throwing his jacket onto the pile of bags on the floor, Youngjae kicked off his shoes and unzipped his gym bag to get his indoor trainers. A ball of green tape toppled out of the bag. Youngjae groaned inwardly, he'd lost any hope for his last ditch effort, discarding the bottle to his side and rummaging for his dilapidated Adidas classics instead.  
  
Finally ready, Youngjae took a deep breath before turning to examine the disaster happening before his eyes. After the other night's ordeal, Mark was currently no longer speaking to Yugyeom, which basically meant he wasn't speaking to BamBam either. So the two youngest were stretching in a corner far away from the older boys. Meanwhile, Jackson was trying to make Mark laugh, pulling out several tricks from his arsenal of boyish jokes, which Mark was halfheartedly indulging with a crooked smile. Youngjae couldn't help but note that everything Jackson had on had been plucked directly from Mark's closet. The capital letters spelling out CALIFORNIA across the white muscle shirt that revealed Jackson's strong arms and rippling abs did not help make this fact any less obvious. Youngjae had to try his best to push out the double pang of jealousy he felt knowing that he was in love with Mark , and that Jackson (who should be in love with him right now, even if only synthetically) was instead cooing over the older boy.  
  
Youngjae wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Much more, the universe had apparently decided.  
  
Even as Jaebeom cued up the music, and the seven boys got into position, a chill remained in the air. When the opening notes hit the air Youngjae willed himself to push all thoughts aside as his muscles instinctively moved to the beat. From the practice mirror he could see Yugyeom following Youngjae's every move, his eyes hungry. The younger boy licked his lips when their eyes met, reflected in the glass. Youngjae tried not to let out a yelp of surprise and looked away just in time to catch another reflection - Mark, staring daggers in Yugyeom's direction.  
  
This, unfortunately, caught Youngjae so off guard that he stopped dead in his tracks. Jinyoung was just coming out of a rotation, and ended up smacking directly into the younger boy, sending the two sprawling on the floor in an awkward heap. Thankfully for Jinyoung, Youngjae's hip managed to absorb most of the impact as he landed hard on his side.  
  
Youngjae heard the scuffle of several shoes towards his direction, and pulled himself up onto his hands in knees just in time for his growing crowd of admirers to begin fussing over him.  
  
"You okay?" Jaebeom asked.  
  
"I'm fine," Youngjae said, waving him off. He could hear Jinyoung let out an audible tsk sound somewhere to his left, but he chose to ignore it.  
  
"Are you sure you didn't break anything?" Jackson interjected, pushing his way to the front. "Don't pretend to be okay when you're not. Maybe we should get you some ice-"  
  
As the suggestion left Jackson's mouth, BamBam peeled out of the room, presumably headed for the vending machine.  
  
"Wait- Bam I'm fine I swear," Youngjae called after. He pushed himself up off the floor, rubbing his hip gently. It smarted slightly but it really was no worse than any other minor dance injury that any of them incurred on any given day.  
  
An arm wrapped around Youngjae's waist, opposite his injured side. "Don't force yourself, just lean on me, hyung," Yugyeom suggested.  
  
BamBam was back, his arms laden with several small cans of juice - the best he could do for an ice-pack under the circumstances.  
  
"Guys I'm really oka-"  
  
"He said he's fine." Mark's voice crackled through the air like a lightning strike. "Now are we going to fucking practice or not?"  
  
Youngjae turned, dumbfounded. Mark was standing near the back of the room, pupils narrowed. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and his hip jutted out to the side. He was tapping his foot impatiently.  
  
"Mark, come on now," Jackson pleaded, approaching the older boy, "He might actually be hurt, we just wanna make sure he's okay. Don't you?"  
  
At the question, Mark's eyes flashed to Jackson, then to Youngjae still entangled in Yugyeom's embrace, and back to Jackson.  
  
"I don't." he said sternly.  
  
"You don't what?" Jackson puzzled. Youngjae felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"I DON'T CARE," Mark shouted. It echoed like another crack of lightning through the still air.

The older boy shoved Jackson aside, grabbed his bag from the pile. A bottle covered in green tape rolled across the floor and Mark kicked it aside angrily before stomping out the door, leaving behind six stunned faces in his wake.  
  
If Yugyeom hadn't been propping him up, Youngjae probably would've collapsed right then and there.

  
  
* * * * *

 

After the outburst Jaebeom decided it best to wrap up practice early, to give Youngjae - and Jinyoung - time to recover. At the station Youngjae and Jackson boarded the train without speaking, quickly securing two empty seats. They never had a problem finding seats after Friday night practices, a benefit of living in the middle of nowhere away from the hustle and bustle of the popular downtown core. Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, Youngjae leaned his head against Jackson's shoulder, the padding of Jackson's puffy winter coat creating the perfect pillow. The older boy hummed, leaning his head in to rest upon Youngjae's own.  
  
Jackson reached for Youngjae's hand, playing absentmindedly with Youngjae's fingers. Youngjae indulged this small moment, the warmth of Jackson's hand and pressure of Jackson's body against his own being the only real, tangible thing he had felt all day. Somehow, it grounded him, anchored him to the here and now, convinced him for one minute that maybe the universe didn't totally hate him, or even if it did he'd always have a safe place to hide. Potion or not, Jackson had always been there for him, through all the long and terrible nights of essays and auditions, through all the mornings filled with anxiety vomiting or just plain hangovers, Jackson was there to take care of his friends.  
  
_Soon he'll be too busy though._  
  
The thought filtered through Youngjae's mind. It was true, Jackson was training for the Olympics. Fencing was his dream and although he'd fallen short of his target a few years ago, this time he was going to see it through. And from there, who knows where Jackson would go?  
  
Youngjae closed his eyes, nuzzling deeper into the shoulder of Jackson's jacket. He breathed in his roommate's familiar scent, smiling.  
  
"Tired?" the older boy asked.  
  
Youngjae hummed in reply. Jackson didn't press the question, he simply pulled Youngjae's hand onto his lap and gave it a little squeeze but let the rest of the train ride play out in silence.

* * * * *

 

Arriving home, the two boys parted ways, both sleepier than they had originally imagined. Youngjae shrugged off his clothes and tugged on a t-shirt and a pair of pyjama pants. He grabbed his phone ready to set his alarm for the next day, when he saw a notification on screen. A new text from Jinyoung.  
  
**Jinyoung:** Are you free tomorrow? Hoping to run something by you.  
**Youngjae:** Run something by me? Sure hyung. What is it?  
**Jinyoung:** Let's talk tomorrow. Meet me at the cafe. Let's say 10am?  
**Youngjae:** Yessir! :3

 

* * * * *

 

It was early Saturday morning, and Youngjae's breath made little white puffs of smoke as he hurried down the street to the cafe on the corner. Upon entering he scanned the area, but found no sight of Jinyoung. Being the first to arrive he let the waitress show him to a booth near the back of the cafe, and ordered himself a warm drink. He flipped anxiously through his phone while he waited.  
  
"I'm surprised you've found time to meet me, you've been quite the hot item recently," a familiar voice mused, earning an awkward laugh from Youngjae in response. Jinyoung slipped out of his wool coat, placing it in the booth next to him as he sat down.  
  
Just then, the waitress arrived with Youngjae’s order. Jinyoung took the opportunity to ask her for a coffee for himself, and waited for her to deliver it before getting down to business.  
  
"I was hoping to get your perspective on something, maybe you've been able to sense it but lately things have just been off. Between everyone. Honestly, Jaebeom and I have been talking and..." the older boy trailed off for a moment, looking solemn, "We're thinking of breaking up."  
  
_This is it, universe. You’ve fucked with me enough. This is the last straw.  Jinyoung and Jaebeom are two of my best friends. They're perfect for each other. They are better **because** they have each other. There's nothing more important to me than their happiness, even if it means confessing everything, and then running away from Seoul in embarrassment and becoming a hermit. _  
  
"I can explain!" Youngjae blurted out, guilt finally getting to him.  
  
"You can explain why Jaebeom wants to break up the crew?" Jinyoung asked, confused. A hint of sarcasm slipping into his voice.  
  
"The crew?" Youngjae was dumbfounded. "Why would Jaebeom be breaking up GET7?"  
  
Jinyoung sighed. "We're getting older, Youngjae. Me, Jaebeom, you, all of us. We don't have the time anymore. Jackson's training for the Olympics and BamBam's struggling with school. And things have been weird lately, everyone's at each other's throats. I think it's just too much stress."  
  
Youngjae stared into his coffee cup, unsure how to respond. In all of the years since GET7 formed, Youngjae never imagined it would end. Okay, to be fair he didn't exactly think they'd be breakdancing in the streets of Seoul when they were seventy-five either, but he certainly didn't think it would come to and end now. And quite frankly, without it... he had nothing. Nothing more than a job at a tennis court, and a string of audition failures. Nothing without his best friends.  
  
"I-I don't think it's the stress, Jinyoung. It's... it's me," Youngjae admitted.  
  
The older boy said nothing, but titled his head inquiringly.  
  
Youngjae took a deep breath. "Listen, what I'm about to tell you... it's going to sound crazy. But I need you to trust me, and believe that everything I'm saying is 100% real,"  
  
"Okay..."  
  
He could hear the scepticism in the Jinyoung's voice, but he ignored it.  
  
"This might be very shocking, but I... I maybe, kinda, sorta have a little crush on Mark hyung, and..."  
  
"We know," Jinyoung deadpanned.  
  
"Who knows? Since when?"  
  
"Honestly at this point I'd be surprised if there's anyone who doesn't know about your kinda, sorta, maybe little crush on Mark. Except maybe Mark himself," Jinyoung said smugly.  
  
"Jinyoung, I am compartmentalizing this information and setting it aside for the time being, because that is not the point," Youngjae pushed on, "I also maybe, kinda, sorta went to a fortune teller and bought a love potion to make Mark fall in love with me. And I was supposed to sneak this potion into his drinks every day until it ran out. Which I really, truly, tried to do. But because all of our friends are dumbasses I may have accidentally made them all fall in love with me."  
  
Jinyoung blinked, and Youngjae watched his brain slowing doing the math, computing the information he'd just taken in.  
  
"Okay, let me get this straight. You went to some crazy witch lady to get some mystery substance and you were just going to slip that into your crush's drinks _without him knowing_ until he fell in love with you? _It could’ve been poison_ . For all we know it _is_ poison. And now you're telling me, as if that wasn't bad enough, instead of your target you managed to somehow give this mysterious substance to _all_ of our friends?"  
  
"Well, first it was just Jackson but then... Jaebeom and BamBam and Yugyeom too..." Youngjae's voice was coming out in nervous squeaks at this point.  
  
"You _poisoned_ my boyfriend? And you didn't think at any point in time that you should... I dunno, stop?" Jinyoung was livid, speaking to Youngjae now in what the younger boys referred to as his "mom voice". Youngjae thought he could even see a vein pulsing in the side of his neck. No choice now but to make dumb, cute, sad eyes at him and hope for forgiveness. Or at least mercy.  
  
"Okay, fine, I guess what's done is done," Jinyoung continued, softening, "But how do you know this thing's even working? What if it's just... lemon juice?"  
  
"After Jackson drank Mark's coffee at breakfast, I cut my finger while doing the dishes, and he... he helped me clean it up and kissed me on the forehead."  
  
Jinyoung mulled it over, “Honestly, not your best proof. I feel like that could happen with Jackson on any given day."  
  
"Okay but, remember Tuesday's practice? Mark was late so Jaebeom drunk his coffee in retaliation and... after that no matter how many times I screwed up he kept praising me and telling everyone else they were wrong."  
  
"God that explains why he keeps texting me your selcas, telling me you look like an adorable otter," Jinyoung complained.  
  
"And that's not the worst part..." Youngjae continued, a blush spreading over his cheeks.  
  
"Youngjae!"  
  
"Yugyeom... and I... Mark walked in on us making out in the bathroom at the bar... I've never seen him angrier. He hasn't talked to me since... I've really ruined everything, haven't I?"  
  
Jinyoung’s expression went from shocked, to scandalized, to empathetic in the space of a minute. He reached for Youngjae's hand across the table, and Youngjae placed it in his outstretched palm, averting his eyes.  
  
"Youngjae... it's not that bad. I'm sure we can find some way to fix it. But first you have to promise me not to use any more of that potion or whatever it is. Okay? If you want Mark to fall in love with you, you should've just told him how you felt from the start," Jinyoung said, eyes soft.  
  
"And yet that still seems more difficult than the situation we currently find ourselves in," Youngjae mumbled, causing Jinyoung to let out a defeated sigh. "Anyways, as my smartest, most reliable and amazing friend, you'll help me fix this right?"  
  
"Yes, yes," the older boy conceded, "First things first, let's dispose of that potion. Do you have any more left?"  
  
"Nope, I finished the last three drops yesterday. I left Mark another bottle at practice, but honestly I lost track of it after all the... excitement," Youngjae said, picking at a peeling patch of varnish on the table.  
  
"You mean the bottle of tea that had green tape all over it?"  
  
He nodded, and Jinyoung let out a loud groan. Jinyoung opened his backpack and pulled out a half empty bottle covered in green tape, giving it a little shake for emphasis. Youngjae looked from Jinyoung, to the bottle, and back to Jinyoung again, eyes wide in alarm  
  
"It says Mark Mark Mark all over it, are you Mark?" the younger boy squeaked.  
  
"Do I need to be Mark to drink some goddamn tea? I found it in the practice room, unopened, while we were packing up. I wasn't just going to let perfectly good tea go to waste," Jinyoung retorted in rapid fire succession. His voice raising in volume with every syllable he spoke. Two girls at a nearby table peered over to see what was a miss, but Jinyoung gave them a death glare and they hurriedly looked away.  
  
"Well, since you're YELLING at me," Youngjae continued, "I guess that means love potions don't work on heartless people like you."  
  
"I might be heartless but at least I didn't try to feed my lover rat poison in an attempt to get him to notice me!"  
  
Youngjae watched as a blush spread over Jinyoung's cheeks - a subtle red hue in the dimmed cafe lights. He was breathing heavily with a furrowed brow. Suddenly, it clicked.  
  
"Oh my god you're yelling at me because you're crushing on me aren't you? Is that why you and Jaebeom are always fighting?"  
  
"I have the right to avoid self-incrimination, and I'm using it now," the older man countered, crossing his arms. Seeing him looking so defiant, Youngjae couldn't help but let out a loud, raucous laugh. If the other cafe goers hadn't been staring at the rowdy couple before, they certainly were now.  
  
"Jinyoung what am I supposed to do, you were my last hope," Youngjae pleaded, once he'd finally managed to keep from busting his gut laughing.  
  
"Listen," Jinyoung said, this time in a calmer, more reassuring tone, "At least I know that it's just a potion. I'll try to control myself, and I'll try to keep the other guys from pouncing on you every chance they get, but you'd better go back to your witch doctor and find us a cure. As for the stuff between you and Mark... I can make him talk to you, but you better be ready to say what you have to say. Just come clean, Youngjae. Be honest with him, you know he'd never do anything to hurt you. He cares about you a lot."  
  
Youngjae wondered exactly where Jinyoung got that last part, as yesterday's events clearly proved the contrary, but he didn't have the energy to argue over semantics. He did, however, trust Jinyoung. The man always found a way to get things done.  
  
"Okay, I'll go back, just pray that there even is an antidote. It probably costs even more than the stupid potion. God I'm going to be eating cup ramen for another month at this rate... I'll text you with details, just make sure everyone drinks it, _everyone_."  
  
"I will force it down Jackson's throat myself if I have to. And _then_ you'll talk to Mark?" Jinyoung warned, shoving an accusatory finger in Youngjae's face.  
  
"Yes, yes... okay. Tomorrow. Await further contact." Youngjae said, as if this was some top secret mission. He stood up from the table, gave Jinyoung a wave, then vanished into the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and thank you to everyone who's been commenting so far. I really do appreciate everyone's kind words, and it's also extremely fun for me to see what parts you get excited about or the little details people pick up on.


	6. Saturday / Sunday

With much dread, Youngjae found himself rapping on the metal door of a familiar old building, right below a flickering neon sign that says PSYCHIC with a picture of a crystal ball. A slat in the door slides open, and he is met with a pair of wild eyes, looking buggish behind thick lenses. They narrow, and then the slat closes. He heard a loud clank as the door is unlocked and pushed open a jar, his signal to enter. Inside a dark staircase leads up to a second floor. The old lady is nowhere to be seen, but Youngjae knows his way around and heads resolutely up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs is a landing, and another door, flung wide open. Beyond it, the psychic is sitting on a cushion behind a low table, her curly gray hair overflowing framing her head like a mane.

"What brings you here, child?" she said, waving him to a cushion on the floor. Youngjae kicks off his shoes leaving them neatly lined up in the hall, stepping onto the warm wood flooring. He takes a seat and tries to keep his eyes from wandering to all the fantastical things that line the walls and nearly every available surface of the room. Foreign things, old thing, shiny things. Youngjae shook his head, folding his hands in his lap.

"The love potion you sold me," Youngjae started, "is there an antidote?"

The old lady frowned, "Changed your mind so soon?"

"N-no, no, I still..." Youngjae choked.

_I still love him? I still want him to love me?_

The wild eyes soften, regarding him patiently.

"I accidentally... potioned the wrong person... persons really..." he feels sheepish admitting it, as if he would be letting this complete stranger down. He really only had one job.

"I see..." the lady mused, "Well there is an antidote. You'll need to be sure to match the dosage with however much of the original potion these persons drank. Can you do that?"

Youngjae nodded, a little too aggressively. He just wanted this antidote in his hands. The lady reached into a cupboard and pulled out a jar, of similar shape and size to the one he'd originally had. Except instead of purplish pink liquid inside, this one was a sea blue. The lady placed it on the table, and Youngjae almost lunged forward to retrieve the bottle, forgetting his manners in his excitment.

"It will cost you though," the old lady sad, rapping Youngjae's knuckle with her bony hand, "Undoing a love potion is more complex, the ingredients I used to make this are far more costly."

Youngjae sighed. He had anticipated this. Reluctantly, he took the bait, "How much?"

A figure was scribbled onto a scrap piece of paper, and turned in his direction. There were way more zeros than Youngjae would've liked.

"I-is there really no... cheaper alternative?" he asked cautiously.

"Well... since no one person drank the entire bottle, the results may wear off over time."

Youngjae perked up, "How much time?"

"That depends on how much they drank my child."

"What if it was only about three drops each?" Youngjae said, shifting awkwardly in his seat.

"I would presume that such a small dose would wear off in about... ten years?"

Youngjae groaned, ten years was an impossible amount of time to put up with this mess. He'd be stealing fries off Yugyeom's plate for the next three months at the rate the Psychic wanted to charge, but it was worth it to have his friends back to normal.

"I'll take the antidote," he said, opening his bag and pulling out crisp bills. Fresh from his bank account. Goodbye Supreme hoodie, goodbye big macs, goodbye alcohol. Okay - maybe not alcohol. He wasn't that desperate.

The old lady accepted the cash that Youngjae held outstretched in his hands, and counted quickly. She nodded, confirming the amount, and Youngjae scooped up the bottle of blue liquid enthusiastically.

"Remember, one drop for every drop of potion they had! Please take care this time, magic isn't a ga-"

It was too late, Youngjae was already half way down the stairs. He hadn't even taken the time to put his shoes on properly and regretted it the moment he stepped into the street and felt wet slush against his ankles. The heavy metal door clanked shut behind him, and Youngjae took the time to carefully - very carefully - secure the glass bottle in his bag. He slipped his fingers into the back of his heels and pulled his shoes on properly before sprinting towards the station.

On the train, Youngjae shot off a quick text to Jinyoung.

**Youngjae:** got the antidote. get everyone together tomorrow. don't care how you do it.  
**Jinyoung:** understood<3  
**Jinyoung:** that was autocorrect  
**Youngjae:** autocorrect doesnt make hearts hyung -__-

 

* * * * *

 

Jinyoung called an emergency practice for Sunday morning. This wasn't uncommon, as Jinyoung had over the years, and especially after beginning his relationship with Jaebeom, taken on not only the role of group mom but also became a sort of assistant coach. When 'Dad' was too fed-up with their antics or just didn't want to deal with herding cats, Jinyoung stepped in to save the day.

"Because the showcase is getting close, we need to pull ourselves together. Absolutely nobody is excused, so be there." Youngjae read over Jinyoung's message from the night before. But as Youngjae walked into the practice room, with a particularly clingy Jackson hanging off his arm, he counted only six members including himself. 

"Right, everyone start stretching," Jinyoung said, taking a space on the floor next to Youngjae. While he folded himself onto his left leg, Youngjae folded onto his right.

"Where is it?" Jinyoung whispered.

"In my jacket pocket, three drops each. How're you going to get everyone to take it?" 

"Leave it to me, it's not like they'll have a choice," Jinyoung said winking. 

Youngjae knew he could trust Jinyoung with that, but the absence of the groups oldest member

"Okay... but where's Mark, did you talk to him?"

"He's being moody, but he'll show. Relax, Youngjae, you're turning purple,"

Youngjae let out a long breath just as the door behind him creaked open. He scrunched his eyes closed as he heard the sound of a gym bag dropped, shoes being kicked off and trainers being slipped on. When he opened his eyes, Mark had taken a spot on the floor across the room, next to Jackson. His gaze met the older boy's for a moment and Youngjae's blood ran cold.

"I didn't say you didn't have your work cut out for you," Jinyoung muttered, before turning to lead the group, "OKAY! Now that we're all here, let's find our positions and get to work. And Yugyeom, don't think I don't see you mocking me, I have eyes on the back of my head you know."

"Like my mother," Yugyeom pouted.

"That's right, I brought you into this world, I can take you back out. Get up, up!"

Youngjae worked his way through he motions of their choreo, careful not to trip up this time or miss his mark. He didn't stumble into Yugyeom at the turn, he didn't take an extra step back when he and BamBam switched places. He did put 100% of his focus into the music, and forgot for a minute that the person who he'd been in love with for years hated his guts. All he could do now was trust Jinyoung, and hope for the best.

When it came time for a break, Mark had already slipped into his leather jacket and made his way to the door before Youngjae had a chance to catch his breath.

Jinyoung gave Youngjae a look, and Youngjae realized that was probably his cue. He scrambled to grab his coat and ran out of the room just as Jinyoung came to block the door.

"But hyung, I have to pee-" Yugyeom's voice echoed down the hallway.

"So hold it," Jinyoung commanded.

Whatever Jinyoung's plan was, it was in motion. He actually felt bad for his friends.

 

 

* * * * *

 

Hurrying down the stairs, Youngjae flung himself out into the night. He squinted in the darkness and almost panicked until he saw a slim figure leaning up against the wall in an alley a few yards away.

"H-hey Mark," Youngjae said, approaching the older boy with his hands up, like he would a rabid dog.

"What," Mark replied sharply.

"I need to talk to you,"

"What if I don't wanna talk,"

"Listen I can explain... I can explain everything," Youngjae pleaded.

"Are you gonna explain why you're cheating on my best friend? What's wrong with you these days Youngjae? I thought you were a good person, I really- When I saw that you and Jackson were together, I mean I have to admit I was a little jealous, but I was happy for you both."

There it was, Youngjae's favourite little word, jealousy.

_So, I was right. He was jealous of me when he thought I was dating Jackson, but he'd suffer it if he thought it made Jackson happy. He really is too good for me._

Youngjae tried to ignore the ache in his chest, the bile burning in his stomach, as Mark continued in a scathing tone.

"I really _was_ happy for you. But then... In the bar, with Yugyeom... and to be honest I've noticed everyone acting weird around you. After I asked you to take BamBam home that day, he thinks you're like his saviour. What's going to happen if he gets hurt, huh? Do you even think about anyone other than yourself, Youngjae?"

Something about that last bit, the way Mark pronounced his name, made Youngjae feel as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Suddenly he felt sick. He tried to look up, to be brave, to explain himself, but he could feel the anger radiating from the older boy and kept his eyes to the floor. 

_Fuck this. Fuck all of this._

"Is that what you think? Is that what you really think of me, Mark?" Youngjae spat, dropping the honorifics intentionally, "Should've known Jinyoung was full of crap when he told me to be honest with you, he said that you cared about me, why would you?"

Silence.

Finally Youngjae got up the courage to meet Mark's eyes, but when he looked up his breath caught in his throat. Mark wasn't looking directly at him either, but rather he had his eyes locked on some spot in the air a few feet behind Youngjae's shoulder. Youngjae noted the sharp outline of his clenched jaw, and the way the streetlight shone across his cheek betrayed the slightest sight of redness in his cheeks. The glistening in the corner of his eyes told the younger boy he was fighting back tears. He was absolutely beautiful.

The rage in Youngjae softened, "Wait, really it's not what you think. I'm not dating Jackson, I'm not dating anyone."

Youngjae could see the older boy processing this, mulling over the new information in his head.

"Okay fine," Mark signed, relaxing his stance a little, "Even if you're not dating anyone, Jackson's clearly in love with you so-"

"He's not, trust me he's not. It's just a stupid love potion that made him fall in love with me, but that will all be cleared up soon, and then you guys can..." Youngjae willed everything in his body to suppress an oncoming sob, "You guys can be together."

"Be together? Love potion? Youngjae none of this makes any sense," 

Youngjae took a deep breath, Jinyoung had told him to be honest, and there was really no going back now. So he ran through the entire story, from the crazy old lady, to all the terrible mistakes, to how Jinyoung was administering the antidote as they spoke. 

"I know, it sounds crazy, it  _is_ crazy. I'm sorry Mark, I really was only thinking of myself... I just... I wanted you to fall in love with me... like I am with you..."

Two chocolate-brown eyes blinked at Youngjae in surprise.

"Why would you think you needed a love potion to make me fall in love with you?" the older boy asked softly. He took a step towards the younger boy, seeming less rigid than before, his jaw was relaxed now, his expression quizzical.

"Because it's me, I'm chubby, and awkward, I have a musical arts degree and I work at a tennis court, how much further out of your league could one person be?" Youngjae protested.

A loud, chaotic laughter danced around Youngjae's ears. It was Youngjae's favourite sound in the world. Tears were spilling from the crinkles around Mark's eyes, but he was laughing all the same.

"Youngjae-ah, there's no way that someone as smart, and caring, and beautiful as you could be out of my league," Mark assured, now completely closing the gap between them.

"What do you mean..." Youngjae squeaked.

"I mean, you're perfect," Mark half-whispered, putting a hand to Youngjae's cheek, brushing away the tears that Youngjae hadn't even realized he had been crying, "I've known it for a long time. I'm sorry, I guess I hadn't been doing a great job of showing that... For you to feel this alone..."

Youngjae felt himself being wrapped up in Mark's embrace, and even though he was slightly taller, it made him feel safe all the same. Mark's cheek pressed against his own, feeling both cold from the winter wind and warm where the hot tears had streaked down his skin. Youngjae pressed into the softness, burying his face in the crook of the older boy's neck.

They stayed like that for a while, until Mark finally said, "Do you think we should go check if Jinyoung hasn't killed the rest of our friends?"

Youngjae sighed, pulling apart, he didn't want to go check on them, but since he was mostly responsible, he guessed that he should.

 

 

* * * * *

 

Youngjae climbed the stairs back towards the the practice room shyly, with his hand tucked into the sleeve of Mark's sweater. Gingerly he opened the practice room door, afraid of what he might find.

Two simultaneous sighs of relief were released at the sight of their five friends, alive, checking out some video on Jaebeom's phone.

"Ah, Youngjae, you're back I see?" Jinyoung asked, beaming.

Youngjae panicked and moved to drop Mark's hand in embarrassment, but Mark only snaked his arm around Youngjae's waist instead.

"Yes Jinyoung, we're back," Mark chirped.

"Finally, now can we go get some lunch?" Jaebeom said, locking his phone.

"Hold up, before that I think we need a little test," Mark said, looking at Jinyoung, "Just to be safe."

Jinyoung nodded perceptively.

Youngjae shuffled on his feet, not quite sure what the two had in mind.

"Alright, we're gonna play a little game. If the criteria applies to you, raise your hand. And no lying because you all absolutely _suck_ at lying anyway," Mark commanded in mock seriousness. "If you're in love with Youngjae, raise your hand."

Youngjae could feel his ears burning red. He didn't want to take his eyes off the floor, but he wanted to make sure the antidote had worked.

When he looked up he saw two hands, one was Mark. And the other was... Jackson?

"I swear to god I forced that vile shit down everyone's throat, there's no way-" Jinyoung started to argue, but Mark simply raised a hand to tell him to chill.

"Nice, good job. Now if you're in love with _me_ , please raise your hand," Mark

Embarrassed, Youngjae raised his hand a quarter of the way up, face flushing a solid red. He could feel the two younger kids laughing at him, and thought he saw Jaebeom nudge Jinyoung's side. Jackson remained puzzled, his hand shot right up in the air.

"I didn't have to do that one, but I thought it'd be fun," Mark whispered to the younger boy, still at his side, "Alright if anyone is in love with Jinyoung raise your hand."

Jackson's hand remained in the air.

Mark chuckled, and it became clear that the eldest had anticipated this result. Youngjae rolled his eyes, his roommate was really something.

"Is there a point to this game? At all?" Jaebeom questioned, raising his own hand in annoyance.

"Right, right, sorry. I think everyone's back to normal - I mean as normal as they ever were,"

"But we didn't even get to _me_ yet," Jackson pleaded, before copying Mark's half-serious tone, "Anyone in love with Jackson Wang, raise your hand."

The Hong Kong native spun his head wildly, looking for a hand.

"C'mon guys really? Really nobody's going to put their hands up for such a fine specimen?" he pressed, gesturing at his body as he said the words 'fine specimen', "I get it guys, just because I'm going to be an Olympic medalist and all, you're feeling shy. But there's no need, reall-"

Jackson's external monologue was drowned out by laughter and the shuffling of shoes as the members switched into winter boots and pulled on their jackets. Practice was over, and so was the worst week of Youngjae's life. Seven bundled up boys headed into the street as the softest of winter snows was falling. 

Bambam pulled his coat tighter against the cold, and received a solid scolding from Jinyoung, "If you didn't spend so much money on such a thin coat, you wouldn't be freezing your ass off right now".

"But hyung puffy coats are ugly, I don't want to look like I just crawled out of an early 90s after-school special like Jaebeom-hyung," the Thai boy retorted, earning a swift smack from the leader.

Youngjae laughed, feeling the least bit cold with his hand neatly tucked up into Mark's jacket pocket.

"Hey Mark, I found a great new show on Netflix, real funny shit. Wanna check it out?" Jackson called, making his way over to the pair.

"Guess I could come over and hang around for a bit," Mark said smiling, "But only if Youngjae promises to make breakfast again."

"Hyung our apartment is neither a hotel nor a restaurant, if you insist on eating all our food and using all our hot water, I'm going to have to start charging you." Youngjae teased.

 

* * * * *

 

Youngjae watched as Mark tucked a blanket around his sleeping roommate, and a smile crossed his lips. Typical Jackson, suggesting a film then falling asleep half way through. He wasn't complaining though, he'd sit through any number of English films if it meant he got to lean against Mark and have him run his fingers through Youngjae's hair.

"He's out like a light," Mark said, yawning a little himself.

"Guess that means there's a free bed for you again," Youngjae said nonchalantly.

"Y-yeah, I guess..." Mark trailed off.

"Hmm?"

"I mean, I'll sleep wherever you feel most comfortable, I don't want to-"

"OH... oh... no it's not like that, I just didn't think... one second," Youngjae said panicked, before leaving Mark in the hallway and running off to his room.

Like a whirlwind, Youngjae cleaned and straightened his room - picking up the few stray socks and chucking them in the hamper, straightening the sheets on the bed which he admittedly only made about once a month, and finally, picking up a little glass bottle and tossing it directly, and triumphantly into the bin. He crossed his arms and examined his work. His room wasn't anything special, but it would do.

"Okay you can come in now," Youngjae called, peaking his head out the door. He felt his face getting warm.

_Youngjae why are you being so weird about this? It's not like this is the first time Mark has seen your room, or even been in your room, but it's possibly the first time we've been in my room alone together, and it's definitely the first time we're sleeping alone together, and maybe even..._

His thoughts were cut off by a mess of brown hair and the rest of the boy attached to it flopping a little less than gracefully onto his mattress as if he was right at home. Youngjae settled himself into the bed next to him, sitting up - close, but not too close, until Mark lazily slung an arm across Youngjae's waist, grinning.

"So, there's really no more of that love potion left, right? I'm not gonna have to fight off any more boys who are madly obsessed with you?"

"Nope, not a drop." Youngjae promised.

"Thank god, 'cause I don't intend to share you with anyone now that you're mine," Mark sighed, moving his head off the bed and resting it on Youngjae's stomach, giving Youngjae's sides a tight squeeze. With one hand trapped under Mark's embrace, Youngjae used his free hand to stroke locks of soft, brown hair. The pair stayed like that, silently for a while, just appreciating it for what it was worth.

"Get the lights Youngjae, let's sleep," came Mark's voice between stifled yawns.

Youngjae flipped the switch and made his way back to the bed. He relaxed, feeling the reassuring contact of Mark's chest against his back, and the warmth of the older boy's breath against his ear. 

"Goodnight babe," the words were soft and sleep laden.

"Goodnight," Youngjae replied, drifting off to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's that? Even if it was short, I hope the ending pleased everyone! 
> 
> Like I said before, this was my first GOT7 fic and the first chaptered fic I've ever posted. Thank you for all of your kudos and comments along the way, it really made it so much more enjoyable to write after seeing everyone's feedback and questions! I have some other ideas I'm already working on, so there will be other fics in future, I hope you'll all enjoy those too!


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